


Desire Like Pearls

by Make_It_Worse



Series: Follower Appreciation [8]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, First Time, Implied/Referenced Sex, One Shot, Power Bottom, Romantic Fluff, Service Top, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:15:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26546620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Make_It_Worse/pseuds/Make_It_Worse
Summary: I participated in a fake WIP meme on twitter and someone suggested "Chloe and Kara - knitting." It was only supposed to be a sentence, but my brain took off.
Relationships: Original Chloe | RT600/Kara
Series: Follower Appreciation [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1309460
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Desire Like Pearls

An error scrolls across Chloe’s HUD as she watches Kara knit. It’s fascinating, watching the needles glide over one and other. Rhythmic and predictable like a machine until—

“You dropped a stitch,” Chloe interrupts the peaceful silence, unable to let the error go unchecked. Her tone is pleasant like a teacher correcting a student.

Kara smiles at her, patient and playful, “Not quite.”

The answer is vexing. More errors. More red tape to untangle from the orderly rows of perfect, pristine programming.

“But you did,” Chloe tries again, her coding demanding it. She folds her hands in her lap. She wants to fix it. She wants to pull the needles from Kara’s hand and thrust the yarn into the shape it’s meant to be.

Kara’s eyes sparkle and Chloe’s coding nudges her back in line. It doesn’t matter that Kara made a mistake. A dropped stitch is such a simple thing and yet—

“Would you like to try?” Kara holds out the incorrect garment and Chloe would pounce on the chance if it weren’t for Kara’s smile. She gets lost in the curve, arcs gracefully on her cupid’s bow until—

“Chloe?”

“Yes,” she reaches out with curious hands, “I would like to try.”

Her rows are flawless, but it doesn’t create the happiness of a completed task. She wraps yarn with delicate fingers, loops it with care, and produces a delicate knot as expected.

“This brings you joy,” Chloe says to Kara seven scarves and two days later.

Kara smiles at her again, but it’s tilted this time. Chloe could nestle into the curve of it and take a nap given how much the simple expression slows her processors.

“The little things bring me joy, not the scarf.”

Chloe wrinkles her forehead in response. No matter how many times she makes the expression, the grooves won’t grow any deeper. No one will know how much the confusion bothers her except—

“Kara?” An idea, scarlet and plump as a pomegranate seed, blossoms in Chloe’s stomach.

Kara’s grin has a spicy cinnamon quality to it as she replies, “Hmm?”

Chloe gestures to the imperfect scarf coming to life beneath Kara’s nimble fingers, “Why are you doing that?”

Kara drops her gaze to the scarf in her lap and looks too innocent to be allowed. She shatters the illusion when she lifts heated eyes that threaten to burn, “Why aren’t you?”

Something warm, something dark, something intoxicating cleaves Chloe in two. On one side of the question: a machine. On the other?

“Show me.”

Kara’s hands ghost down Chloe’s arms until she settles around her finger to finger. It’s hard bordering on impossible to skip the stitch. It’s even more unimaginable to leave the mistake. The loop sits there in glaring error, but Kara’s hands remain firm. Kara’s surrounds Chloe with the comfort of a weighted blanket, but the invisible itch of uncertainty wriggles beneath Chloe’s skin.

“But why—?” The question comes out half-formed and vanishes in a static gurgle as Kara presses her lips to the top of Chloe’s spine.

Data and fire-hot confusion unfurl along Chloe’s limbs. Every possibility, improbability, inevitability dance away from her reach. Kara’s fingers glide along her skin, leaving electricity in their wake. Molten realization bubbles up her esophagus in a frantic laugh.

_Show me_.

There should be order, but—

_A fingertip ghosts across her blouse. She skin puckers as if she’s cold, yet she is anything but._

A scan of erotic literature tells her it must be a pinch, but this feels softer, gentler. She makes a sound and her code crashes into a confusing jumble under her cheeks. Kara’s hand tracks from Chloe’s chest to her face.

She cups it like a gift before pressing her lips to Chloe’s brow, her nose, her lips—

Desire more burgundy than wine erupts from somewhere below her navel and Chloe wonders if this is what dying feels like.

_You are alive_.

Kara’s thoughts nudge amongst Chloe’s confusion. Her hands spasm, seeking contact, and Kara’s fingers tighten to give her what she needs. Her spine constricts and bows as Kara’s teeth graze along her neck. Her hand disappears to slip beneath unnecessary clothing. Her fingers graze, tease, pull until every sensor in Chloe’s body grows as taut as the bud Kara continues to toy with without mercy.

Chloe’s breath comes out ember-hot, and her HUD warns her she’s pushing the limits of her programming.

Kara speaks and Chloe isn’t sure it if’s aloud or in her mind, “Do you want me to stop?”

_No._

It takes nimble hands to knit a scarf well. A machine can do it without snags, misaligned stitches, or mistakes. Chloe had seen Kara knit scarves before. Some were perfect; some were not.

_The little things bring me joy, not the scarf_.

The little things for Kara, Chloe learns, are the drift of her hand over Chloe’s knee. It’s Chloe asking _Why?_ It’s the spearmint green that erupts in Kara’s mind anytime their lips meet. It’s the first time Chloe shyly undresses and presses Kara’s palm to her stomach, unsure of how to proceed. It’s Chloe’s _want_ and implicit trust.

“How did you do that?” It’s the first question that springs to Chloe’s lips after Kara’s fingers drifted along her hip down between her legs. She’d pressed and brushed until Chloe’s body threatened to combust. Instead, she’d rebooted and awoken hungry.

Kara’s answer had been to smile. Chloe had rolled on top of her as if Kara had any plans of being anywhere else, “Do it again.”

She grows to appreciate Kara’s sloppy knitting with time. Predictable heat boils beneath the surface, demanding release until—a thumb brushes the surface, breaking the pattern—a knuckle grazes over swollen sensors, and she buckles—lips swallow her cries as fingers plunge, grind, demand her release.

_Come here_.

Like Chloe, Kara doesn’t easily tire. Still, Kara reclines and Chloe scoots closer out of a potent mix of curiosity and desire. If Kara had been human, Chloe would have worried about suffocating her with her thighs. Kara’s grin splits Chloe in two as her tongue takes over to give her fingers an unnecessary break. By Chloe’s third reboot, she’s certain she owes Kara a new headboard and, perhaps, some new sheets.

“What else?” Chloe waits three months to ask the question. She traces her perfectly manicured nail around Kara’s clothed nipple, watching it harden beneath her shirt. Kara pretends to ignore her even as a telling shiver tingles down her spine. Chloe counts to ten, unable to give up even numbers, before she squeezes at the delicate tip.

Kara’s eyes flash and she lets her head loll in Chloe’s direction, “What do you mean?” Kara doesn’t fill in the words for her even when Chloe pushes hard. It’s another month before Chloe can articulate what she wants.

It’s another week before Kara can procure what Chloe needs. Their fingers lock and Chloe’s screams echo around the room as well as across their connection at the first buck of Kara’s hips. She writhes, seeking more, seeking escape, as Kara sets a pace as unpredictable as her knitting patterns. She reboots and reawakens on the verge of a shutdown. Kara’s eyes bore into hers, too close and too kind, as her fingers demand one last release.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/WorseMake).


End file.
